55th Hunger Games
by Oli2Fab4U
Summary: SYOT Close / INDEFINITE HIATUS / Running through the trees there's only one thing between your live and death; the will to survive. Who has a stronger will and who will crack under the pressure of the Capitol?
1. Prologue

_Knox Riviera, District Eight, Victor of the 54th Hunger Games_

They say when you win the Hunger Games you're meant to feel pride. You accomplished something so many dream about, so many dread about and what twenty-three other people couldn't achieve. If I was a Career and did what I did, maybe. But I don't. I don't deserve the accomplishment but the Master of Ceremonies, Glint Flickerman, wants me to believe I do.

"You played like a Career in the final days of the arena," He remarks, motioning behind him to the screen that shows the final days of the arena.

The current clip shows my exchange with the male from Two, Colossus. Aptly named, if I'm honest. I gave him the location of my alliance, a five-strong unit against the Career's five-member alliance. Coming out of the arena I've found out we were thought to be among the best top tens ever. I gave him the way how to get into our complex entry, gave him the password we made up to protect ourselves. I gave him everything and in return he gave me the day they would attack. He knew he'd be able to beat me in battle so he thought if I escaped it'd be an easy win.

He knew my alliance would take down most of the Careers - and they did. The pair from One and the girl from Two perished in the fight against my former allies. I had left them that morning and was watching the whole battle from a tree.

"Mystic killing Colossus, now that really _was_ something!" Glint remarks and the clip shows the girl from Four, who we had all considered a filler Career, kill Colossus with seeming ease.

"How did you find it in you to jump from a tree, slam a knife in her head _and_ then slit her throat?"

I look at Glint, then the camera and shrug, "In the arena you need to do what you need to do."

The Capitol cheer at my answer. They view me as a devious, deserving tribute. Someone who knew what it took to play the Game and while they'll reward me with love, the districts of my allies, Three, Nine and Twelve, will hate me forever.

* * *

 **This is happening a _lot_ sooner than I had anticipated but I just can't wait!**

 **Naturally this SYOT won't happen for a while, or at least not until the 70th is wrapped up which I hope will be in a week or so!**

 **Below is the tribute form and remember, any reservations _will_ expire after two days. (Italics is optional)**

 **Please title your submissions as '55th Hunger Games -District + Gender'**

Name:  
Age:  
District:  
Gender:  
Weapon of Choice:  
Strengths (Maximum of 3):  
Weaknesses (Minimum of 3):  
Appearance:  
Personality:  
Background:  
Family:  
Reaped/Volunteered?:  
Reaction to Reaping/Reason for Volunteering:  
What are they doing on the morning of reaping?:  
 _Chariot Outfit:  
_ Interview Outfit + Angle:  
 _Token_ :  
Wanted Alliances:  
Preferred Placement of Death (Can't be guaranteed!):


	2. District One Reaping

_Vicu ña Sphene, District One Female, 17 years old_

Most people volunteer to show how amazing they are, how much their work in the academy has paid off and, more importantly, to prove themselves as what they believe themselves to be. I'm not going to volunteer for any of those reasons. Why? I want to show people how wrong they were for underestimating me - to show them how wrong it is of them to put me in the box of a ditzy blonde and leave it at that. Even my own _parents_ see me as a dumb blonde, you know how discouraging that is? They're loving, they just seem to forget the fundamental rule of not believing in their kid as much as they should. The only person who has believed in me? My best friend, Cereus; he's always been there for me.

I used everyone's perception of me against them though, how could I not? It only adds to my strength. One time I got a girl who bullied me often when I was younger expelled from the academy because I outsmarted her. Last I heard she was working a mundane job because nobody took her seriously when she volunteered. Another time I injured my personal rival when nobody was looking and, when she accused me, nobody suspected me because how could they? I was the dumb blonde in their eyes. A girl who was just working her way through the academy. Nobody suspects me and that's what makes it perfect, as much as I hate it. I'll use it as a tactic in the arena and then, then everyone'll see.

Speaking of Cereus, he helps me train before the reaping. We can't do our usual extensive training mostly because the few trainers that are still around have told us to get out before it's too late. I try to take no notice but their constant reminders keep disrupting me and, in the end, I just say to Cereus that we should practice with the wooden sticks the academy has to imitate swords.

Like always he makes me fight for a victory against him; he moves nimbly and blocks all of my initial attacks, making me unable to land a hit on him whilst he jabs me occasionally. It doesn't take me long to see a pattern in his attacks; block my attack, move around in circles and switching direction often before attacking. After I've identified this pattern attacking becomes much easier; it doesn't take me long for me to overpower him and deal what would be a finishing blow.

We laugh the practise off, hugging each other and taking to the showers as the remaining trainers usher us from the main grounds. Like all reapings we've brought out clothes to the academy to change into and spend the morning together instead of going back home. It's much more fun to have a breakfast at a cafe before the reapings as opposed to the usual food at home.

I make sure not to eat anything too heavy; I don't want to risk looking bloated nor do I want there to even be the possibility of me losing my food. I know that today's events can be turbulent and, although a Career, I'm not going to risk throwing up and making myself look like an idiot on national television.

Cereus and I talk over my plans to volunteer and how, naturally and in the most well deserving manner, I'll upstage all the people whoever doubted me and simply regarded me as the blonde girl without a second glance. It'll feel rewarding to show them all wrong and, when I hear the district-wide whistle that signals the start of the reaping, I can feel the adrenaline beginning to build within me.

* * *

 _Jackson Corano, District One Male, 17 years old_

Most people in the Capitol know my name, how could they not? My mother, Cadence, was a popular teen idol in the Capitol at one point in her life and, at the age of eighteen, she made the bold decision to move to District One and marry my father, Braden, the newest victor of the Hunger Games. The Capitols loved their relationship and, upon my father's refusal to leave District One, they decided they still wanted to see their new power couple. They waited until myself and my siblings were born and, then, my family was given our own reality TV show.

Some people fare well in the limelight - my mother certainly did - but as someone who prefers to remain humble and kind, I hated and still hate it. Each of my siblings and I have personalities that the Capitol want to see. Although being kind and humble, I'm the poster Career boy. I'm what the Capitolites think of when you mention Career to them - apparently. My younger brother, Jacob, is far more fitting for that role but his assigned part to play is that of a sports-centred jock. Next comes my older sister, Mackenzie, who's your typical District One bombshell. Then there's Ariana, she's the nerdy smart girl that everyone just can't _help_ but love; not that I disagree with them. And rounding up the Corano clan are the twins, Charlotte and Connor. They're both playful kids but Connor borderlines prankster. We're probably the most sensationalised version of a District family as there can be - and the Capitol _loves_ it.

I feel quite trapped when the cameras come in to film my life - I come off as somebody I'm not and there's only two people in the world who can relate to me; Ariana and Harper, a daughter of one of the cameramen. They can relate to me and they give me some comfort as I spend every waking day being the typical Career that I don't want to be. You could just say 'change your onscreen character' but I can't do that. My parents have threatened me with being drafted to become a Peacekeeper instead and that is a thing I don't want. Instead, I suck it up and be the person they all want me to be.

Like most mornings, especially reaping mornings, I start my day with training for the camera. I wield some knives expertly and throw some, not missing a single target. I'm basically here to show them how dangerous I am and what a threat I'll be when I go into the Games because that's an inevitable reality to me - not that I'll comply so easily. I can take being made into someone I'm not but to risk my life for this fictional version of myself? That's where I'd draw the line, honestly. The training is only a short clip and in the training room the cameramen are replaced by my parents who have overbearing smiles on their faces.

"The Capitol voted for who they wanted to volunteer," My father says simply, the smile not wavering on his face, "And congratulations - they want _you_ to be in the Games."

"Yes! What'll happen is they'll reap Connor and you, being the Career you are, volunteers to make sure you get the glory," My mother follows up, "Brilliant, right?"

I can feel my world shaking around me and I shake my head simply, "No. No, you can't make me. The Capitol can't decide _for_ me."

"Sweetie it's an honour," My mother protests but before she can continue I shake my head.

"No, it's not! And I won't. I won't volunteer. There's people in the district who want it far more than I do."

Any act of rebellion sets my parents up and my father holds me firmly by the shoulders, his voice dangerously soft and quiet, "Now, listen here Jack. You'll volunteer because _that's_ who Jackson Corano is, not this wimpy, pathetic, emotional mess. It's that or Connor goes into the Games, dies, and you'll become a Peacekeeper. You're volunteering. End of story."

He lets go and I feel my shoulders ache. Only when they're out of the room do I go and find Ariana and Harper to tell them what's happening. I know they'll tell me I can do it but all three of us know one thing - I won't kill during the Games and that's an extremely vital part of it.

* * *

 _Nobody's POV_

As every year has it, the citizens of District One cram themselves into the extravagantly decorated town square; one that's bedazzled fittingly so for the District of luxury goods. An undeniable energy of excitement lingers amongst them and they cheer aptly for the plump petite woman with turquoise hair who comes on stage to begin the ceremonies. She's been the District One escort for twenty years now and, somehow, she manages to outdo her performance every single year.

She goes through the usual customs; the video that explains how the Hunger Games have come about, introducing the mayor for his speech and giving the District her own personal account of the Games and what they mean to Panem. Of course, as members of a Career district, the citizens eat it right up and cheer her on. The cheers of anticipation almost become deafening when she announces she'll be drawing the female tribute.

Volunteering is always messy in District One; everyone wants to be the one who volunteers and the main thing to do is catch the escort's attention and from there she'll pick who she thinks will be a strong contender. And, this year, when she announces a small thirteen year old girl it's no different.

"Plumeria Christal!"

She can barely finish the girls names before there's screams of volunteers and this year, like most years, she spends her time picking the tribute. She gets close to choosing a few hopefuls before settling on a girl from the seventeen year-olds section, a pretty one that definitely upholds the District One stereotype of beauty, Some in the district seem to find the choice laughable or, dare I say, wrong and murmurs commence throughout the crowd as the girl takes her place on stage.

"What's your name dear?" The escort asks in her warmest voice and the girl simply smiles at her before beaming back at the district.

"Vicuña Sphene."

The escort attempts to generate some claps of excitement but, for the most part, the citizens remain emotionless and questioning of the woman's choice.

Clearly shaken at the response, the escort goes to the bowl of male names, choosing one from deep within. Returning to the podium she unfolds the page and speaks with a clear clarity.

"Connor Corano."

As expected, the name of a famed District One icon being reaped causes more murmurs to generate but they're hushed at the screams of volunteers. As if told to, the escort picks the tall, attractive boy who people immediately recognise as Connor's older brother, Jackson. People nod and clap, laughing as they know they'll be well represented in the Games by Jackson, the Career Corano.

He doesn't need to introduce himself as he takes his place on the stage and, admittedly, Vicuña almost looks timid stood beside him as they shake hands.

The escort concludes the ceremony and, for the most part, District One is content with their tribute choices.

* * *

 **Sorry for the hiatus first and foremost! I haven't been in the best frame of mind as of late and, subsequently, the drive to write hasn't been there. But fear not! I've regained muse for writing and I shall be updating my other Games this week!**

 **Thank you so much to District5Chemist for Vicuña and MarinaSkies for Jackson! I liked them both and I think their twists on your traditional Career-ness makes them a little more interesting!**

 **As always, tell me what you think of the tributes and make an opinion chart! Unlike my 70th HG I'm really going to take into account what you all think of them rather than storylines I create as I write them; I want to combine the two and I think having a victor you all resonate well with will help me create some good storylines!**

 **As always, reviews make me happy~!**

 **-Oli**

 **(ps! If I have a tribute in a Games you're writing, fret not! I have been reading but I haven't had the time to review! I plan to start reviewing but there will be a chunk of missing reviews and I apologise for that but, if I can, I'll try and do a review of the chapters so far as and when I find the time to do so!)**


	3. District Two Reaping

_Aurelia Thisbe "Lia" Leviticus, District Two Female, 17 years old_

Every year the trainers at the academy pick a male and a female to become our volunteers. As most reapees go to the academy, everyone knows who the designated volunteers are. They're picked on the account of many things; their capability, savageness and, rarely, if District Two has a point we want to prove. Although uncommon, there are some who train at home and when they attempt to volunteer over the designated volunteers, that's when fights break out in the square. And, more often than not, the designated volunteer wins.

This year, I'm the female tribute. Getting the news was pretty awesome and I can see why they chose me. Whilst I don't have a set weapon, I excel at hand to hand combat, something so many people underestimate as a valuable form of fighting in the Games. I'm pretty popular too, a social butterfly as some call me, and I remember trainers telling me that'll take me far in the Games; people from outer districts, if you ally with them and show them genuineness, will protect you till the end _because_ you're that valuable. The trainers told me the charisma I have and the seeming ability to make anyone feel like my best friend will also be among my greatest weapons in the Games. I don't know who my male counterpart is but I _know_ I'm manipulative and cunning, so I shouldn't have too hard of a time controlling the Career pack. If there's some stragglers...well, they'll have to go early because structure _is_ key.

Although the glory of being the volunteer is great, it's overwhelming and I decide to allow myself time to myself for the reaping morning. I, of course, eat breakfast with my parents who're over the moon - more so my father than my mother, but that's because he sees me as a prize and the ultimate prize would be the Victor of the 55th Hunger Games. He went to object when I tried to leave at first but my mother, a lot more human when compared to him, let me. She's trained me at home for as long as I can remember, so she knows how I get and what's best for me.

I choose to go into the woods just outside my house with a book. I look like a girl from Three no doubt, but it calms me and it gives me time to think. Since being told yesterday that I'm the one who should volunteer, I've had no time to step back and think, hence why I've _only_ seen it as good.

Don't get me wrong, I'm honoured that I've been chosen and I'll try my hardest in the Games, but it wasn't something I _set out_ to achieve. I could've happily watched as another girl gets the glory and goes and represents our district in the Games. As I said, I'll do my best because I've been trained to do it and I'm sure my personality can get me extremely far, but it wasn't the be-all-end-all for me, not like it is for my parents.

I look at my watch and note that I've got an hour or so before I should go back to my house and get changed into my reaping outfit and go to the reaping. That's good - it should give me some time to read a few chapters.

As I sit there, reading, I wonder about who my District partner will be. There's a few strong contenders. I'd like the tall and muscular boy, Theseus Laurentis, to be my district partner - he's strong, _amazing_ with an axe and just as charismatic as I am. There's a few other contenders that stand out, but none like Knox. There _is_ one boy, a mute, but I wouldn't think they'd pick him - he's a risky choice, right?

* * *

 _Alexei Panthenos, District Two Male, 18 years old_

I don't know why they chose me but the only reason I can think of is my ability when it comes to wielding knives, throwing and regular knives. Besides from that? I'm a mute, I don't speak to anyone and quite a few people in the academy are scared of me. I guess that's the effect of my intimidating aura. Silent, but deadly. That's me.

I'm a mute out of choice, nobody forced me into it. Well, bar that girl, Augusta, who took Venice from me.

She was the star of the academy, first in line to be the designated volunteer with Augusta as her second place. We were all gathered one morning to watch Venice spar with other people. Usually, when they do that, it's a requirement to have dummy weapons so the designated volunteers don't get injured. Everyone complied, everyone except Augusta. Instead, she used an actual sword and ended up 'accidentally' stabbing Venice in the neck. Nobody believed her and I had to watch as Venice died before me. Augusta took her place in the Games as the new best female in the academy and only got third - Venice would've won and I stand by that.

That's why I'm a mute - that incident scarred me. I remember running over to her body and hugging it, hugging it until they pulled me away because I wouldn't let anyone else near it. I miss her, she was the solace in the harsh, tough love given to me by my mother. I still have nightmares of me telling her to run, to fight back and basically do _anything_ to survive.

I still see her, though. Albeit as a hallucination, I still see her and that gives me comfort.

I see her now, when I do some last minute training at the training centre. With my long knife I stab the training dummies as Venice sits in the middle of the room, near where she died, and gives me advice.

"I'd go for the head, it kills them quicker."

"The upper arm's a bit useless, unless it's the dominant arm."

"Yeah! That's it."

She's encouraging most of the time but sometimes, sometimes she gets angry and I think that's when she remembers that she's dead and she can't do anything about it. She would've liked to have died honourably in the Games, not at the hands of some mug.

"You should've saved me," She says as she gets up, walking slowly towards me, "You should've saved me and then I could be a victor and we'd all be living happily."

I nod, clutching my knife until my knuckles turn white. She was and is the only one who can make me feel intimidated.

"I'm sorry," I say, replying in my head with a timid voice, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should've."

She simply nods before charging at me, an angry look on her face.

A door opens, causing her to vanish as my attention goes from her to the door where a trainer emerges, telling me that I should be getting ready for the reaping as it's happening soon. I sigh, putting down my knife and giving the place where Venice died a final glance.

* * *

 _Nobody's POV_

Whilst the town square of District Two might not be as extravagant as the one for District One, it's robust and serves it's purpose well, mirroring the likelihood of most District Two citizens. It doesn't need a lot of glamour to make a statement and the residents of District Two like it that way. Naturally, as the district most loyal to the Capitol and the one which finds the most enjoyment in the Games, the whole square is buzzing with excitement, anticipation taking over many of the people as they wait to see who is reaped and who will volunteer in their place.

The District Two escort, an older, slender man with red hair, has no troubles in exciting the crowd. They respond enthusiastically to him and quieten down when listening to the film and their mayor's speech about the Games. The escort's talk on how the Games represent the struggle in keeping democracy in a fleeting world moves some of the citizens to tears and the escort smiles, knowing how well it's reading on camera.

Unlike Districts One and Four where the volunteers scrap for the escort's attention, in District Two all the escort has to do is pick the reapee he's been told about that has been assigned the volunteer status from the academy. Being the District Two escort, while honourable and desirable, is among the easiest jobs in the entire Capitol. The citizens like the orderly manner of it and silence themselves as he walks over to pick a female name.

"Amora de Rossi!"

A girl from the fifteen-year-old's section begins to walk down the aisle before a mantra of shouts of volunteers occur. The escort searches through them to pick the girl designated to volunteer and she confidently takes her place on stage beside him.

"And what's your name?" He asks, more so for the benefit of everyone else because he knows her name.

"Aurelia Leviticus."

Seemingly popular, Aurelia receives a large round of applause from the district and she smiles at that, exuding confidence.

The escort, after waiting for the crowd to quieten down, goes to the bowl full of male names and picks one at random.

"Lorcan Stohn!"

A weedy twelve-year-old boy steps forward. He looks timid and it becomes obviously quickly that he hasn't yet blossomed into the mindset of most District Two boys. No matter, though, as shouts of volunteers save him from making his way up to the stage.

The escort, like he did with the females, scans the crowd before picking the designated volunteer; a slender boy from the eighteen-year-olds section who's bone structure and muscles will surely captivate the Capitolite girls.

The crowd goes silent, mostly out of shock. Everyone knows who he is - Alexei Parthenos. His sister, Venice, was a favourite to be a volunteer before she was murdered by that year's tribute, Augusta. Many people are clearly intimidated by him and he knows this as he takes his place beside the escort.

"And your name?"

He looks around before opening his mouth - people crane in as if they've never heard his voice before and, for some of them, they haven't.

"Alexei Parthenos."

His voice is gravely and barely audible. Some are visibly shaken by it - hearing a mute talk for the first time is a spectacle and many assume that'll be his edge in the Games.

The escort, looking pleased with the tributes given, tells them to shake hands before they're escorted into the Justice Building.

* * *

 **Hey!**

 **Here's the long awaited update!**

 **This one took me a while because I couldn't figure out how to write these two at first but, after a month lmao, I think I'm happy with how I've written them!**

 **Thank you to Irew2376 and SparkALeah for Aurelia and Alexei!**

 **As always, reviews make me happy!**

 **~Oli**


	4. District Three Reaping

_Rhea Fray, District Three Female, 14 years old_

Reaping Day hasn't gotten easier, even five years on from her passing. You give sympathy to those who've lost someone close on reaping days anyway because you want to pretend like you know how it feels when, in reality, nobody _truly_ knows how it feels until they've had it happened to themselves. Like I said, reaping day hasn't gotten easier for me or my sister, Isabelle, since our mother passed. While my mother's death didn't hit us financially, there's been irreversible emotional repercussions. We were a close family and being ignored by my peers was made okay because of that. I don't mind being ignored now because I'm used to it, but back then I always had interactions with my mother to look forward to.

The daughter of one of my father's colleagues, May Baxter, helped me out of what I now know was the growing depression I was falling into. She helped me stay away from the growing negative thoughts and, naturally, our two families got closer and now it's not unusual for us to spend reaping mornings together having a big breakfast. With four kids who can be reaped, our parents always make sure the breakfast's decent, hearty.

So, like normal, we spend this reaping morning with the Baxter's at our house, it's bigger and can accommodate all of us nicely. The aim of the breakfast is to have fun, to reminisce of the year passed almost, but mostly to distract us from the impending possibility that we might never see someone again. Like normal, the three adults gravitate at one end of the dining table and the four of us - myself, Isabelle, May and May's brother, Barry - gather at the other end and we all have our own conversations that weave in and out of the other end's. Laughter fills the room and, if you didn't know otherwise, you could assume it was a birthday or Christmas celebration.

The meal is always long; we start it rather early and all of us kids get ready in our reaping clothes in advance to save time. As my father says 'better spend as much as the morning as possible having some fun, right?' I like that ethos, it puts light-heartedness back into the world. It's like any other meal we've had. We talk, laugh, share a big meal together and, as always, the reaping whistle brings our gathering to an end. The whistle silences the laughter and a sombre mood instantly comes into play. In no time at all, the dining table is returned to it's usually undecorated state, any leftovers are packed away, and we're on our way to the reaping.

Our parents trail behind as myself, May, Isabelle and Barry walk on ahead, like we always do. Our parents established early on that they like to give us space, knowing this'll affect us more than it'll affect them at their ages.

We try to keep the conversations we have lighthearted like we usually do. Although the two pairings that arise are May and myself and then Isabelle and Barry, today we talk together. Well, us girls do with the odd interjection from Barry.

We talk about anything and everything; what we think the style of our escort is going to be this year, who we think would get reaped from our classes at school, you know, the usual. It helps us get through it and, when we approach the sign in place, I remember how it feels every year - too real.

* * *

 _Barry Baxter, District Three Male, 17 years old_

Every morning is the same, it being the reaping doesn't make it any more special, nor does it any worse. I take the medication prescribed to me when I was diagnosed with cancer five years ago. It doesn't do much to slow down the process - the doctors have said I need to go to the Capitol to get better treatment - but it helps with the day to day struggle of living with it.

Like every reaping, the morning is revolved around a dinner with the Fray's. My younger sister, May, is best friends with their younger daughter and Isabelle and I are friends. Not to mention that our fathers are colleagues. That breakfast is always a highlight of the year, even if I'm forced to sit with the girls and listen to their conversations about boys and whatnot - not that I mind but I've heard enough about a certain eighteen-year-old to last me a lifetime.

The walk to the Fray's house is always sort of humbling. My family, compared to their's, isn't as well off and we feel the struggle of living in District Three more. We're not poor by any means, just average whilst they have some money to sit upon. It's humbling but also nice to see my parents excited about meeting Mr. Fray and my sister for being excited to see Rhea. I'm excited to see Isabelle too, even if we did split up and go into different friendship groups that made us drift apart somewhat. I think outsiders and even some of us ourselves think of the Fray's and Baxter's as one family and, to an extent, I do consider all the Fray's family. Except, maybe, Isabelle, just because of our lack of true closeness in recent years.

Being one of the more silent ones, during the breakfast I prefer to sit and watch, eat the food given to me and chip in when the opportunity arises or when I'm spoken to. The atmosphere of the Fray house compared to the rest of District Three is definitely noticeable but I like that, it proves we can create an environment on the worst day of the year that is fun-loving and carefree. Like every year, the reaping whistle ruins it, but it's always fun while it lasts.

Like most walks to the square, I walk with the girls and listen to their conversations. They've _finally_ moved on from talking about eighteen year olds who they think would have a decent chance in the Games and now concern themselves with what colour our escort is going to sport as her colour for this year. They suggest a load of colours but I shrug when they ask me for my opinion.

"I don't think she'd do green - she did a dark green last year to 'celebrate' the technology of Three, so I doubt she'd go near that colour."

They consider my answer and nod, with Rhea saying "Makes sense."

It doesn't take us long to be signed in and placed in our allocated areas.

 _Just one more year after this_ , I think to myself, _and then you don't need to be inside the square again._

* * *

 _Nobody's POV_

The square of District Three looks tightly packed as it is with the tall buildings looming over the Justice Building and the square itself, let alone with the addition of District Three's multitude of citizens. It's relatively clean, compared to the rest of the district; it hasn't been touched with the same dirtiness given to the rest of the district via the machines that are used to create the technology. It's the most highly developed square out of all the Districts; the technology that Three creates is apparent within the square and that always makes it a standout when it comes to the reapings.

Most of the citizens have cleaned up nicely too; they know they're on national television and the last impression that they want to give the Capitol and the other Districts is that they're dirty. The cleaner everyone is, the more likely that there's no discrimination against the tributes. That happened on year; everyone was so exhausted from the day's work before that they didn't clean up as well and, as a result, the ones from Three were targeted by the Careers for not 'caring' about the Games as much as they should. They were meant to be a wake up call for the District and it worked; ever since it can be argued that Three is among the most prepared for the Reaping.

This year, the escort for District Three sports a red look, a mixture of harsh and soft reds being apparent in her clothes and hair. Unlike last year where she wore something tight-fitting, apparently to show how 'tightly knit' District Three was with the Capitol, she wears a billowing dress that swallows her up slightly, not doing any favours or her already smaller frame. The District Three citizens listen intently to the movie played about the Games and their Mayor's speech about the Games, but you can tell none of them take it seriously, or at least not as seriously as One and Two do.

As is with every year, the escort does her best to psyche the crowd up with her choosing of the names, walking over to the female's bowl with an exaggerated pep in her step. She's dramatic as she picks the name and the camera luckily misses a large portion of the reapee's and citizens' eyerolls.

"Rhea Fray!"

A girl who looks like she belongs with the twelve year olds steps out from the fourteen year olds section. She's visibly shocked and you can tell her mind is racing on how to deal with the growing fear with each step. You can see in her eyes that she's trying to stop herself from crying and, for the most part, she succeeds. With her red hair styled the way it is, she looks like a small pixie and that can only help her in the Capitol; they're a sucker for a cute one.

As she stands beside the escort, she receives a small smile before the escort is off, repeating her performance to the bowl full of male names.

She doesn't have a chance to say a name before a shout of 'I volunteer!' echoes throughout the square. District Three does have volunteers, but they're few and far between.

A fairly average height male walks from the seventeen year old's section. He's strong, not like a Career his age would be, but strong enough to at least make some tributes weary of him. He looks determined in his decision and, through his messy black hair, there's not a trace of tears. It's clear he has some connection to Rhea as her face drops, as if it wasn't already shocked to begin with, and her head shakes slightly as if she can't believe it. The camera also pans to a couple of girls amongst the reapees, probable relations to either Rhea or the volunteer, who share similar expressions.

"And what's your name dear?" The escort asks the reapee as he takes his place on her right, the joy in her voice unmissable.

"Barry Baxter," He replies, his voice quiet and mysterious.

The escort claps her hands with the up most glee and instructs the tributes to shake hands. As they do, the assumption that they know each other is only furthered as he squeezes her hand and nods lightly at her.

With another clap, the escort turns to the citizens of District Three, "And _those_ are your tributes for the Fifty-Fifth Hunger Games!"

The two tributes are separated and escorted into the Justice Building. They're not the worst set of tributes Three could've been given for the Games, but seemingly not the best either.

* * *

 **Sorry for the lack of updates and the lateness of this! As I mentioned on my 100th HG story, I've been at Uni and it's been hectic!**

 **I do plan to update this sooner if I can!**

 **Thank you to Blade Is My Penname for these two tributes! I hope I did them justice!**

 **As always, reviews make me happy~!**

 **\- Oli**


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